


Yours

by NimueOfTheNorth



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Encouraged and Welcome Possessiveness, M/M, No Jealosy, Rough Sex, Spencer's POV, possessive love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 02:02:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14760518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NimueOfTheNorth/pseuds/NimueOfTheNorth
Summary: Spencer knew what he wanted in a relationship, and after years it looked like he found everything he dreamed of in Aaron. Now, if only Aaron's past experiences and guilt complex wouldn't get in the way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The beautiful banner is the work of the lovely and talented Rivermoon1970. Thank you!

 

 

Contrary to popular believe Spencer Reid had had relationships. Plural. And yes, sexual.

He’d even had them with women and men. Why would anybody think that a scientific mind wouldn’t consider and experiment with all variables to a problem?

The result, however, had always been the same: unsatisfying.

That didn’t necessarily apply to the sex, some of that had been quite pleasurable, though not everything had proven fulfilling for both parties involved. That one adventurous night at uni when three people had shared a bed had been rather fun for all of them, just not something they had wanted to do on a regular basis.

What never worked out the way Spencer wanted it to was the relationship part.

Dating people outside of his scientific fields usually ended up with a silence in which neither felt in the loop on the other’s interests and frame of reference.

Dating people inside of his scientific fields ended with them finding his emotional needs confusing, illogical and simply too needy. Most people he found academically stimulating addressed emotions like equations, and he was a variable that wasn't properly defined.

Dating within his current field of work just didn’t seem like a good idea. Law enforcement couples seldom worked, JJ and Will being a rare exception but not without bumps in the road. Also, most people doing their job didn’t quite take him seriously, at least not outside his intellectual abilities. And how could that ever be a foundation for a relationship?

There was another issue that kept him from mixing his job and his love life but that he tried not to think about.

So Spencer had mostly given up dating or looking for a relationship. It didn’t mean he stopped wishing.

Whenever books and coffee shops and the chess tables at the park or time with his godson couldn’t stave off the loneliness, he liked to go out.

Morgan would probably have a stroke if he’d knew and most definitely if he saw Spencer in his clubbing outfit. It wasn’t a side he was willing to share with his colleagues, no matter how much he cared about them. He didn’t want it dragged out on their schedule, it was his and his alone to control and let loose.

Tonight was such a night.

He’d known he’d want a night on the wilder side soon and had checked the event calendar for something interesting. Some sexual gratification by anything but his hand - with or without a toy - would also be nice.

The team had a long weekend having worked cases out of town the last two, and so he didn't have to worry about being called away. And one of the clubs he liked had a theme night.

Masquerade.

The club had a very open-minded policy and therefore a colourful clientele. So this night would likely see anything from conservative clothes with traditional masks over outrageous costumes to fetish-wear skirting the line of public indecency.

Spencer enjoyed a shower and arranged his once again shorter hair to ‘artfully tussled’. Hotch may have called it a boy band haircut at one time, but he’d found he liked it and it held some attraction for others.

He got dressed in front of the mirror. Purple skinny jeans that very much nixed boxers as a choice of underwear, they were that tight around his hips and butt. A black dress shirt with just enough silk to be soft and a little shiny without turning flamboyant, and cut snug in all the right places. He loved his vibrant purple Converse that had been a special edition and that he didn’t wear all that often - all the white parts would glow lilac under UV-light.

Giving himself one last once-over, he grabbed his phone, ID, keys and a little cash. The club offered a membership of sorts, that allowed you to pay everything with a small chip you could wear as a wristband, keychain or necklace. He'd even seen it as a tag on a collar once. He might not be overly fond of wearing a wristband, but it was way more convenient and comfortable than shoving his whole wallet into the too tight pockets of his jeans.

He already had a fairly simple black and purple mask in the pocket of his coat, so he was soon good to go and headed for the metro station. He’d treat himself to a cab for the way home.

 

* * *

 

 

The _Panoply_ had gone from comfortably full to pretty crowded in the time Spencer had been there already. What would usually make him uncomfortable never seemed to bother him as much when he was in one of these moods, and he soaked up the atmosphere.

He’d slowly sucked his _Black Sheep_ through the fluorescent straw while talking to a guy dressed as a circus director and a woman in a catsuit - the furry type with tail and matching ears.

He had danced with men and women alike and allowed himself to be touched like he rarely did. Given the wild mix of lifestyles, the crowd at _Panoply_ subscribed to, mutual respect and acceptance of boundaries were essential. The staff worked hard to ensure a safe atmosphere for everyone. That included that nobody got overly drunk at the club - they did serve alcohol, but they'd cut you off before you got stupid.

At one point Spencer had been fairly certain he’d seen David Rossi in a white suit and matching glittery mask - _Really Dave? White glitter?_ \- vanish out the door with a young woman made up as a ballerina doll.

He was heading for the bar for some water when his breath caught in his throat. Dave may have left with a young woman, but it looked like he'd arrived in different company and left his friend behind in favour of getting laid.

Why else would Aaron Hotchner stand at the bar in such a club?

Gathering his senses and courage about him, Spencer sidled up to his boss’s side when the man was just ordering a beer and fumbled for his wallet - you didn't have to have the membership payment arrangement after all.

"Add a water, and it's all on me." Spencer stretched his arm over the bar for his chip to be scanned.

Hotch’s head snapped around.

The acoustic in the club was set up so that the music was nice and loud on the dance floor but a lot more moderate around the bar and sitting booths. There was no chance Hotch hadn't recognised his voice, and when dark chocolate eyes surrounded by a plain black mask met hazel ones there was no doubt left.

Spencer just gave a half smile and cocked his head in question.

“Do you often buy random strangers a drink?” So Hotch was willing to play. Nice.

"Why shouldn't a guy buy an attractive man the occasional drink? It's just a beer after all." Spencer was honestly a little proud how well he pulled off the casual tone. It didn't match his jitters at all.

He was rewarded with a trademark half-smile, and though it was difficult to tell with the lights in the club, he could have sworn that his stoic boss was blushing. "Attractive, hn? And would you be hoping for anything in return for your kindness?"

“As I said, it’s just a beer and that smile certainly qualifies as a reward already. Though I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to drag me off to the dance floor at any point this fine night. Enjoy the party.” Spencer grabbed his bottle of water and made his escape while he still felt he was ahead of the game. _What in the name of sanity are you doing, Spencer Reid? You just flirted and basically propositioned your boss!_

He tried to distract himself with dancing, but it wouldn't quite work. He kept registering Hotch out of the corner of his eye and was hyper aware of his boss watching him. Hotch's intensity could take on a presence all of its own and was hard to ignore if directed at you. And right now all that attention was and stayed focused on Spencer.

He was tempted to put on a show and the same time felt ridiculous for it, so he tried to just dance and not let his partners feel too much like he wasn't interested in them.

His current dancing companion was a rather perceptive woman. She kept glancing back and forth between Hotch and him and eventually put her mouth to his ear. “So what’s up with you and dark and handsome over there?”

"It's complicated," was all the answer he could muster.

“Good complicated or bad complicated?” There was some actual concern in her voice, not just curiosity and Spencer wondered if she’d had a bad experience herself.

“Just awkward complicated. He’s an amazing guy.” He twirled her away and pulled her back in, but she wasn’t one to give up so easily.

“But?”

Spencer sighed internally. “But he’s my boss.”

“Yeah, that makes for awkward.” She got a glint in her eyes that reminded Spencer of Garcia whenever she had mischief on her mind. “Wanna see if you can make him jealous anyway?”

And Spencer was apparently in an adventurous mood far beyond his normal range because he found himself nodding yes. One cocktail was by no means enough to blame the alcohol.

Making someone jealous naturally meant their dancing turned a lot more lascivious. Her hands were wandering and caressing and ended up grabbing his ass a few times. She definitely had talent as a seductress and Spencer acknowledged that without Hotch around, he would allow himself to enjoy her company for the night in a heartbeat.

He tried his best to reciprocate and let her know that her efforts were appreciated and not just in regards to their little scheme. He hated being used and making people feel used in return, even if they offered.

She turned him towards Hotch, plastered her body against his back and let her hands wander over his thighs and stomach teasingly. Spencer did his best not to make it to obvious, but as she intended, he had a fairly straight line of sight to Hotch. What surprised him was the tight grip the man had on his by now empty beer bottle and the fire he thought he was seeing in those wonderful dark eyes.

Hotch lasted another half song but when the music changed the next time Spencer felt strong hands coming to rest on his hips, and a familiar voice rolled over his shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt, but I believe I owe you a dance."

Spencer’s dancing partner gave Hotch a stern look. “You’re not sorry at all, handsome. But neither is cutie pie here, so it’s alright.” She brushed a kiss against Spencer’s cheek and whispered “Go get him” in his ear.

Hotch let his hands wander forward from their position until his arms loosely wrapped around Spencer's middle and he could pull the younger man into his chest. "You've been playing with me, tempting me all evening. I hope you know what you are getting into, because I feel very much disinclined to let you go again, now that I have you."

"Hmm, so sure of yourself, are you. Who says I'll let you have me so easily?" Spencer was well aware that his words were somewhat contrary to his body language. He didn't want to end this game, whatever it was, too soon, because he worried the spell might break and Hotch would pull back. But he couldn't help his instinctual response to the strong arms holding him and leaned into the chest behind him.

Hotch had become a steady rock for him over the years. Someone who subtly cared and supported and who simply never wavered in who he was. And Spencer had come to care for that, for the man who kept himself hidden so carefully behind his stoic professionalism. After all, Spencer was good at finding hidden things.

This trust he already had for the man swaying him to the currently slower music made everything else all too easy. Made him feel a connection he had often worked for and failed to find with partners.

Gosh, giving into this was such a bad idea, but Spencer was feeling selfish, and if just this once was all he got, he'd take it all the same.

He let himself drop into Hotch’s arms a little more, rubbing against the firm chest, only to withdraw and turn around seconds later. He kept dancing with Hotch but wasn’t relying on his support any longer. He noted with pleasure the trace of disappointment in the other man’s eyes.

Hotch for his part was trying to pull Spencer in close, and Spencer's mind was all too willing to read that as Hotch staking his claim. But no good scientist ever drew a conclusion without proper testing of his hypothesis and so he kept playing it up. He used any offer in the music to turn and break Hotch's grip, and the older man would reach out and grab a fresh hold of him a little quicker and a little tighter every time. He'd step slightly away from Hotch only to have him follow after, never letting the distance between them grow too far.

Their little game went on for a while until Hotch grabbed Spencer’s wrist mid turn and pulled him right into his chest, holding him there with no way to escape without a struggle. Not that Spencer had any intention to even try, feeling quite happy and almost floating where he was.

“You’re a little minx, aren’t you?” Hotch almost growled into Spencer’s ear and sent shivers down his spine. “Always trying to get away from me, yet coming back oh so very willingly. Do you want to test me? Or do you want to force my hand? Because I have to tell you, I’m this close to just picking you up and carrying you out of here to make you make good on your teasing.”

"I'd much prefer walking out on my own feet, but you could drag me anywhere you'd like, and I promise the teasing will be delivered upon." This got him an actual growl in response, and Spencer found himself pulled impossibly closer into his partner's body, feeling a hardness he'd never thought he'd ignite. He had his answer, and for whatever reason Hotch was giving in to him, for tonight he just wanted it.


	2. Chapter 2

In no time he found himself in the passenger seat of Hotch’s car heading towards his own apartment. Hotch had asked “Is this okay?” when he made the deciding turn and Spencer had just smiled and nodded. He didn’t ask for his reasons, could think of enough possible ones himself, and was fine with all of them.

Hotch’s hand reached over and landed above his knee. It started wandering up and down his thigh, fingertips stretching more and more to the inside. Spencer’s only response was to slip a little deeper in his seat and let his left leg drop towards Hotch. It was far from a wanton display but gained him a groan all the same.

Hotch found a parking space and then did his best to interfere with Spencer’s attempts to actually get them inside, both at the front and the apartment door.

Once they’d made it, Spencer found himself pressed into the next available wall, with a strong body in full contact with his own. Hotch buried one hand in Spencer’s hair, turning and holding him like he wanted and kissing the living daylight out of him.

The other hand soon wandered down his body and pulled one thigh up against Hotch’s waist, bringing their groins into more intense contact. It was Spencer’s turn to groan though it was mostly lost between their lips.

Hotch eventually broke the kiss for both of them to catch a breath. “God, I want you so much,” he whispered against pliant lips.

“And I want you to take me.” Spencer made sure to let his certainty shine through in his voice. He still wasn’t convinced that Hotch wouldn’t pull back, though his doubts were dwindling.

“Don’t talk like that. You’ll make me do things you might not be ready for.”

Spencer brought both his hands up and cradled Hotch’s still masked face, looking him right in the eyes. “You are underestimating me. I thought we’d left that behind. I promise I’ll tell you no if I need to, but don’t you dare treat me like a delicate virgin, because I’m neither.”

He reclaimed Hotch’s lips before they could form another protest and used his already lifted leg to pull him closer, grinding against him in hopes to get him back to less thinking and more acting.

There was a short moment of hesitation that he decided to ignore and then Hotch was yet again taking possession of him, dominating the kiss, using his strength to hold Spencer in place, finally, finally groping his ass with first one and then two strong hands.

Spencer willingly gave himself over, completely surrendering his own stability to the other man when he wrapped his other leg around his hips as well. Trusting Hotch just came so naturally.

Minutes of heated kisses later Hotch pulled back panting. “Bedroom?”

"Yes." Spencer was already stretching to reconnect their lips. He did get another kiss but then his legs were slowly lowered to the ground, and Hotch took a step away, gesturing for Spencer to go ahead.

He wouldn't have minded being carried, but he was also so revved up already that the little bit of separation would likely help him gain back some control. This was a fantasy coming true, and he didn't want it to end too soon.

He’d made no more than two steps when his hand was snatched and their fingers laced together tightly. Hotch didn’t hold him back, he just followed right behind him. The wish for physical contact made Spencer smile.

In his bedroom, Spencer pulled Hotch along to the bed and turned on the small lamp on the nightstand. He started to undo the buttons of his shirt but was stopped by a strong hand grabbing his.

“No. Let me?”

He just smiled and let his hands fall to his sides. Hotch stepped close and slowly and methodically opened one button at a time, caressing the skin revealed each time. His dark eyes held Spencer's the whole time as if he were uncertain if he was doing it right.

Spencer just stood there completely relaxed, enjoying the touches and the goosebumps they caused.

The shirt dropped to the ground, and Hotch started on his jeans. He seemed a little more sure of himself when Spencer's smile didn't change, and no protests were raised. Tight as they were the pants didn't drop an inch without some encouragement, and Spencer was looking forward to things gaining a little more intensity.

Much to his pleasure, Hotch chose to push on the jeans by running his hands into the back of them. In reaction to the naked cheeks he found, Hotch let his head drop to Spencer's shoulder with a groan.

“Are you going commando?”

“Urgh, no, I hate that. But there’s only so much underwear that fits under these pants. It’s a thong. You going to take a look?”

“Hell yes!”

Spencer could work with that kind of enthusiasm.

Hotch pushed the jeans just below his butt and gave his cheeks another good squeeze before he pushed him down to sit on the bed. Hotch dropped to one knee in front of him and grabbed for his shoelaces, but his eyes strayed towards the bulging piece of fabric covering his cock.

“I didn’t know they produced men’s thongs with polka dots.”

“And just how much research have you done into the designs of men’s thongs, pray tell?”

“Touché,” Hotch chuckled and finally removed shoes and socks before he dragged the jeans all the way down, blunt nails scratching over Spencer’s skin, and the jeans were carelessly tossed to the side.

When he straightened up again, he looked into Spencer's eyes as if he was searching for something. Eventually, he hesitantly raised his hand towards Spencer's face and reached for the mask. "May I?"

"Of course." Spencer forced himself to not hold his breath, to not tense up. In many ways, this was more revealing, more baring than having all his clothes removed.

This would tear away the veil they were both pretending to hide behind.

This might be the one thing too real for Hotch to continue.

The mask came off, and Spencer just looked into his boss's eyes. Hotch's hand returned to his face and cradled it, a thumb brushing over a cheekbone. "Spencer."

“Yes.”

Their breaths and anticipation hang between them until Hotch pulled his own mask off.

"Hi, Aaron," Spencer smiled, and the tension seemed to bleed out of the older man. He leaned forward and took Spencer's mouth in a possessive kiss that left neither of them much chance to breathe.

Spencer started to fumble with Aaron’s buttons but again had his hands stilled by a strong grip. “No.”

He stopped but gave Aaron a raised eyebrow.

“In the middle of the bed, hands above your head.”

Spencer felt a thrill run through him and did as he was told. Reclining into his pillows, he stretched his arms back and grabbed a hold of the rungs of the dark wooden headboard.

Aaron sort of groaned at the sight. “So very willing to follow orders.”

“I’m yours to do as you please.”

“That’s a dangerous thing to say to a man like me, Spencer.”

“I know you, Aaron. I trust you.”

Aaron had toed off his shoes and socks and climbed on the bed straddling Spencer's thighs. He pulled a rolled up tie out of the pocket of his jacket before he let it drop aside. "I don't want to bind you to the bed, but I'd love to see my tie around your wrists."

Spencer's cock gave a little jerk, and he eagerly stretched his arms towards Aaron. The silk felt wonderful on his skin as Aaron looped it around and tied it securely, checking that it wasn't too tight. "Okay?"

"Very much," Spencer practically purred. His hands were guided back above his head, and he grabbed onto the headboard again, trying to ground himself.

He needed it as he watched Aaron open his belt and pull it out of its loops. Next, the man practically made it an art form to undo the buttons of his dress shirt, starting at the cuffs. Spencer was panting by the time Aaron pulled the shirt all the way off and dropped it beside the bed.

Button and zipper of Aaron's pants were opened at a torturing slow pace, and Spencer had to bite his lip not to demand that he get on with it. Not setting the pace was part of the thrill.

His legs fell open willingly when Aaron repositioned himself and pushed between them so he could more easily get out of his pants and boxers.

And then he lowered himself down onto Spencer, blanketing most of his body, pushing him into the mattress with his weight, gloriously bringing their groins together.

Spencer whimpered and his hips involuntarily jerked against the heat and hardness.

All that was still between them was the purple thong with the little black polka dots.

“Will you finish undressing me?” he managed to ask.

“You said you’re all mine. Is that so?”

“Yes, all yours, all yours.” Just saying and meaning it was exhilarating for Spencer.

"Then it is my decision when to unwrap my treat. And right now I don't want to." Instead, Aaron began to explore Spencer's body with his hands while he kissed him like his life depended on it and Spencer didn't have a single problem with that.

It felt like forever before Aaron seemingly grew tired of exploring with only his hands and tore his lips away from Spencer’s mouth. He let them follow up on the work his hands had already done, kissing and nipping, smelling and tasting every inch of Spencer.

He spent a lot of time on the inside of Spencer’s upper arm, mouthing, licking, kissing and sucking on the skin with abandon. When he finally pulled away, he looked at the spot with appreciation, and was that pride? Aaron’s finger caressed the now tender patch of skin and Spencer turned his head to find a rather impressive hickey.

He’d been marked.

The shiver and moan running through him in response brought a smile to Aaron’s face. “You don’t mind?”

“Quite the contrary.”

“Perfect.” And with that Aaron continued making a feast of his body.

The attention to his nipples seemed almost ridiculous but the one who was gasping "Yes... please... more,"had no room to criticise. Spencer tried to squirm away when Aaron latched onto his side out of a ticklish reflex, but Aaron stilled him with firm hands.

“You said you were mine - all of you.”

It wasn't really a question, but he answered anyway. "Yes." And he willed himself to hold still and surprisingly found it intensely pleasurable when Aaron sucked another hickey into his skin.

Spencer was less surprised but still a little disappointed when his cock wasn't granted any attention as Aaron skirted lower. Next on the menu was the inside of his thigh it seemed. Suddenly Spencer let out a strangled cry as teeth were added to the mix in earnest. He didn't think Aaron was drawing blood but, oh that feeling. Being claimed so thoroughly. It was a good thing that sure fingers had grabbed the base of his cock or he'd come that very moment.

Aaron tore his mouth away from Spencer's skin, and it was back on Spencer's lips in the blink of an eye. The kiss was sloppy with desperate hunger as one strong hand slipped into Spencer's hair to hold him in place and the other grabbed his bound wrists and pressed them down into the pillows a bit.

Spencer was moaning, and his groin jerked against Aaron's reflexively. He kissed back just as enthusiastically, giving it everything he had in the hopes that Aaron would have no doubt about his feelings.

“God, your mouth is delicious,” Aaron groaned. “I want...”

Spencer didn’t get to hear what Aaron wanted but that he was scrambling further up on the bed gave him a good idea.

“Let me sit up.”

Aaron kneeled back between his still spread legs and pulled him into a sitting position with the hand still buried in his hair. Spencer barely managed to pull his hands down between them, ending up with them awkwardly resting on Aaron’s arm as the man didn’t seem to even think about letting go. The head of Aaron’s cock rubbed over Spencer’s lips for a moment and pressed inside as soon as he parted his lips.

He groaned as the salty taste of precum hit his tongue and hollowed his cheeks to make it even better for Aaron. The hand in his hair stabilised him but didn’t guide his movements. Spencer could tell by the short and jerky thrusts that Aaron was holding himself back and that wasn’t at all what he wanted. He started to bob his head up and down Aaron’s cock, pressing his tongue against it and humming.

“Oh fuck, Spencer, yes! So good.”

He'd closed his eyes in pleasure, but he wanted to see what Aaron looked like right now, so he glanced up through his lashes but kept going.

“You should see yourself right now. So perfect, with your lips wrapped around my cock. You have no idea what you do to me.”

Spencer thought he could do one better and relaxed his throat, letting Aaron’s cock slip all the way in and swallowing around it.

“Fuck!” Aaron jerked forward before he pulled out of Spencer’s mouth. He let out a whine and wanted to protest as he was pushed back onto his back again but Aaron was right there on top of him, kissing him again.

“It’s too much. You’re too good at that. As much as I’d like to come in your mouth, I want to fuck you even more. And I’m not in my twenties anymore.”

That was a logic he couldn’t argue with.

“Then we’ll save this for another time. I love giving blowjobs,” Spencer got out in between kisses. His own arousal was edging towards unbearable with all the stimulation.

Aaron started another descent down his body, making sure he found all the spots with his mouth that he had missed the first time. He ended up playing with Spencer's nipples again, sucking and nibbling on one, and pinching and twisting the other with his fingers. His weight was still deliciously pressing Spencer down, and he could feel Aaron's tie around his wrists with every little movement.

And it got all too much to hold on to.

With a yell, Spencer came, his cock spilling into the flimsy bit of fabric still covering it.

He lay there breathing heavily when he noticed that Aaron had stopped everything he’d been doing. Forcing his eyes open, he found his lover staring at him in surprise, almost shock.

“You came. Just like this?”

“See what you do to me?”

There was a flash of something in Aaron's eyes, and Spencer hastened to push it away and get him back into the mood. "You promised to fuck me. Stuff is in the drawer." He jerked his chin towards the bedside table and ground his hips upwards against Aaron's erection for good measure - with the desired effect.

Aaron groaned and kissed him again but also reached out to open the drawer and grab the lube. A cushion was pushed under Spencer's butt, and his thong finally came off. Aaron almost ripped it in the process. One lubed finger pushed inside of Spencer easily. He was relaxed and still floating on the high from his first orgasm and encouraged by that ease, the careful prep quickly turned more eager with Aaron's kisses and touches getting a frantic edge.

By the time three strong fingers were fucking into him, he was a moaning, writhing mess and more than half hard again. The fingers stilled, and he registered that his face was held in a gentle but firm grip.

“Open your eyes, Spencer, look at me.” He did as he was told, he always wanted to follow that voice. Aaron’s flushed face and intense eyes greeted him. “Condom?”

“Your call. I’m clean. Trust you,” was about all he could manage, for which he was rewarded with a deep and toe-curling kiss.

He didn’t have much time to bemoan the fingers being pulled from his arse because moments later he could feel something much more substantial pushing against his entrance. Spencer relaxed and sighed when the head of Aaron’s cock slipped past the muscles and went steadily deeper.

“You feel so good. Like you were made for me.” Aaron closed his eyes as he bottomed out, both of them savouring the moment.

“Yes, for you, just for you, so perfect.”

Aaron hooked his arms under Spencer’s legs and bent him practically in half leaning over him, making sure to support enough of his own weight. He fucked him nice and slow, unerringly brushing against his prostate. Spencer was whimpering, gasping, begging but Aaron never changed his rhythm, never sped up.

Spencer had let go of the headboard at some point, his arms just lying loosely around his face. Every time he opened his eyes he found Aaron intensely looking at him with more desire than Spencer would have ever thought he could inspire. He tried to hold that gaze, bask in it, drink it in, but again and again arousal overwhelmed him, and his eyes fell closed.

He felt like he was incredibly close again and at the same time thought that Aaron could probably keep him on this edge forever. And it felt wonderful.

At some point, even Aaron's immense self-control snapped. He let Spencer's legs fall down to his waist, grabbed a hold of Spencer's shoulders and used the added leverage to speed up his thrusts, adding more force. He hit Spencer's prostate full on and Spencer was constantly groaning, gasping and mixing in profanities. He vaguely felt the nails digging into his skin, but the pressure and friction his cock got between their stomachs mixed with the heat and stretch of Aaron's cock in his arse surpassed everything.

As soon as Aaron's lips returned to his in a bruising kiss, Spencer tumbled over the edge and came between them, feeling Aaron losing his rhythm and coming deep inside him moments later.

They lay like this for a little while, panting, and he must have drifted off, because he woke up hours later in a mostly dark bedroom, cleaned, untied and the little spoon in a warm embrace. He revelled in the unfamiliar feeling for as long as he could, but eventually, his bladder demanded attention.

After some careful extrication work to let Aaron sleep, he made it into the bathroom. After taking care of necessities, he took a long look at himself in the mirror.

He was quite the sight.

The hickeys were impressive but could all easily be covered by clothes. The scratch marks on his shoulders were more than he would have thought. There were finger-shaped bruises forming around his shoulders and hips. And the bite mark on his thigh, that one would last the longest.

He carefully brushed over all the signs of what Aaron had done to him tonight. Some of them hurt a little when touched. But that wasn’t the point. They were all signs of the passion he had inspired.

He had been claimed.

He felt owned.

And not just by anyone, but by Aaron Hotchner. The one man he admired more than any other, the man he trusted beyond a doubt, the one he just maybe...

Spencer shook his head at the silly smile on his own face. He felt wonderful, and there was a welcoming, warm body in his bed to cuddle up to. What was he doing shivering in his bathroom?

* * *

 

 

When Spencer woke up again, it was because of the grey light falling in through his window. He could tell immediately that he was alone in his bed. The mattress dipped just like it always did.

There were no noises in the bathroom.

No smell of coffee from the kitchen.

He pressed his eyes shut tightly, trying to stave off what he knew to be reality.

Eventually, he turned over and opened his eyes.

On the second pillow lay a folded piece of paper. He pulled it closer and unfolded it to find just three words in a familiar handwriting.

_‘I am sorry.’_

He closed his eyes again trying to pretend there were no tears in them. When he wanted to breathe, he choked on the air and just curled in on himself with the note crumpled in his hand.

Because if ever Spencer Reid had allowed himself to fall in love, it was with one Aaron Hotchner.

And no matter what he’d told himself last night, this morning, it bloody hurt.


	3. Chapter 3

He eventually rolled out of bed when the timer on his coffee maker filled the apartment with the alluring smell. Pulling on one of his most snuggly, oversized robes, he shuffled into the kitchen and took the largest mug he owned over to the couch.

Curled up in the corner, he sipped the black brew without really tasting it and stared off into nothing. His eyes were dry, the tears left back in bed but the pain still present.

It was two mugs later that his stomach growled and made him aware that it was almost midday and he had no food left in the fridge.

Getting ready to brave the outside meant walking back into his bedroom. He stared at the mess that was his bed, and the picture made it impossible to ignore the aches in his body that should be pleasant but only brought home the hurt of waking up alone. Taking a deep breath to strengthen his resolve he pulled off all the sheets and pillow covers and carried them to his washing machine.

But then he found himself standing there, his nose buried in the sheets, inhaling the traces of Aaron’s smell.

“Get a grip, Spencer Reid,” he chastised himself and dumped the laundry into the machine, adding more detergent than strictly necessary.

He left remaking his bed for later,dropping his robe to the floor and heading for a shower instead. The sight of his body covered in marks in the mirror was much less delightful than it had been a few hours before. Brushing over the scratches made him feel bittersweet at best.

The hot water cleared his head somewhat, and he emerged from the bathroom with a resolve not to let this break him down. He had the whole weekend to put himself together before he had to face Hotch in their professional arena again and he knew he had to be the consummate professional about it if he wanted to salvage their friendship.

He dressed in well-worn tight jeans he’d never wear to work and one of his favourite Doctor Who t-shirts.

He pulled the new set of bed linens that JJ had got him for his birthday from the closet. They were all purple, each piece one solid colour but all different shades that went well together and made him like the look of his bed again.

After that, he dumped all his things back into his satchel and made sure he had a book in there. He took his car to his favourite coffee shop and treated himself to his favourite decadent coffee concoction and their waffles with mixed fruits as a very belated breakfast. Getting lost in a few chapters of a Fred Vargas novel helped him relax.

At the grocery store, he decided it was about time he restocked his freezer with home cooked meals to heat as needed and shopped accordingly.

Cooking all his favourites that could be portioned easily and stored well was mundane and satisfying at the same time and got him back on a mostly even keel by the time Sunday evening came around. He had very pointedly not thought about Aaron and hadn't even looked at his current research paper. The topic was too close to things associated with Hotch, and he didn't want to go there just yet. He'd even put his rewatch of the Marvel movies on hiatus in favour of old Star Trek because superheroes inevitably brought up thoughts of Jack.

By the time he crawled into bed on Sunday he felt mostly ready to return to the normality of the BAU family.

 

* * *

 

 

Monday morning saw him back at his desk - and pretty much completely ignored by Hotch.

They were working on consults and paperwork which made it easy to ignore that Hotch stayed hauled up in his office pretty much all day, not interacting with anyone. But Spencer noticed right away that there were no refills to his coffee dropped off with an accompanying bottle of water to make him drink something not caffeinated.

When it stayed that way for days, the rest of the team started to notice and worry, but nobody said anything.

Rossi started to invade Hotch’s office but came out of there looking frustrated every time, so nobody else tried. Spencer didn’t comment on any of it at all. He was torn between satisfaction that Aaron was obviously also affected by their encounter and disappointment that the older man retreated this far into his shell. That didn’t bode well for the idea of more joined trips to museums with Jack and similar activities he’d come to enjoy.

They were called in on a case in Wichita on Thursday, and the discussion about the possible profile during the flight had Hotch involved as usual and put the team at ease.

That turned back towards raised eyebrows when Hotch assigned the hotel rooms. The little rotation they had going on would have had Hotch paired up with Spencer, but instead, he claimed Morgan as his roommate, which left Spencer to share with Rossi.

Nobody said a thing, let alone complained, but it was obvious they'd all noticed.

Spencer studiously ignored the inquisitive glances from Rossi while sorting his things in their room. He slipped into the bathroom to brush his teeth and dress for bed and almost dared to hope that he would escape the questions into sleep when he turned onto his side.

“Reid?”

He sighed silently. There was more worry than nosiness in Rossi's voice, or he might have pretended to already be asleep. Instead, he turned around to face the older man, even though he could only see him all blurry without his contacts. He could still feel the probing stare directed at him.

"Are you alright? Aaron isn't saying a single thing about what has his knickers in a twist, but I know it affects you too. Whatever happened, I'd hate to see you hurt by his stubbornness."

“Thanks. But I’m fine. A little disappointed but fine. I don’t want to talk about it either, it’s personal, but I’m fine. I’d just hoped that it wouldn’t affect our working relationship as it does.”

“I’d think the dent in your friendship is even harder to take,” Rossi observed but then raised a hand. “I get it, it’s none of my business. Just know that I’m here for you just as much if you need someone to talk. I know how trying Aaron can be.”

Spencer let that sink in and acknowledged that Rossi probably would be the best to talk to if he were so inclined. “Thank you for the offer. But in this case, I think it would be best if things just sort themselves back to normal. Hopefully, Hotch will get there in time as well.” He’d almost called him Aaron there and wouldn’t that have told Rossi more than he needed to know.

 

* * *

 

 

The case was a frustrating one for all of them.

That their UnSub had very consistent timing and was taking a new victim only once a week was objectively a good thing as it meant fewer victims altogether, but it also inevitably meant that it took longer to get new information once the first victims' deaths were analysed.

They had been called in too late to prevent the fifth abduction, trashed home and murder the Saturday after their arrival, so the only thing they could do at that point was to do their best to find all the puzzle pieces available and put them together. The knowledge that Saturdays were somehow significant for the UnSub gave them the chance to discuss the profile more in depth than when they had to fear a new face on the murder board every other day.

Throughout the week, Spencer was relieved that at least their job wasn’t suffering from what he was now calling a one night stand in his mind. No matter his emotional investment, it was easier to call things by their real name rather than cling to illusions.

What hurt was how Hotch grew tense any time they were left alone in a room. Spencer was entirely certain that the other man had found pretences to leave more than once and he wasn't sure what that was about. Did Hotch think Spencer would confront him in the middle of a police station during a case? Was he that afraid what Spencer might have to say?

It seemed absurd but was hardly something he could devote much mental capacity to when the geographic profile could be of immense importance to their investigation, and he still hadn't connected all the dots.

And he needed sleep too much to ponder it in bed at night - he was already reciting Mary Poppins in his mind to fall asleep, even without Aaron Hotchner providing additional distraction.

In the end, it was a bit of luck and the layout of the last victim’s home that helped them out. Prentiss had gone to the crime scene again to see if there was any detail they might have missed when the scene had been swarming with cops and crime technicians. The house had a completely open floor plan on the first floor and a mezzanine running along the sidewall upstairs.

Prentiss was still leaning against the railing of that mezzanine when Spencer and Morgan arrived following her call.

“Come up here guys and look for everything red.”

"What exactly are we looking at?" Morgan asked still jogging up the stairs, but Spencer had gone first, and his eyes took in the layout straight away.

“Let your eyes go a little unfocused, that’s how I noticed,” Emily told them, but Spencer’s mind was already running a mile a minute, sifting through photos of the older crime scenes, locating anything red and calculating it’s layout throughout the house as if there were no walls.

He'd have to check, but he was entirely certain that it was the same concentric pattern in all cases.

“Looks almost like a mandala,” Morgan commented. “That’s definitely not a coincidence. But how does it help us?” The last was asked in a more pondering tone. They were all trying to incorporate every new tidbit into the bigger picture.

“I have a feeling Reid is already on to something. That’s why I wanted him to come.”

Prentiss was right, he was indeed on to something.

“The same pattern of red things can be found in every victim’s home. We just didn’t notice because of the walls separating the various items. And if I lay that pattern over the city map…” He was pushing the concentric dots this way and that in front of his mental eye, searching a position - and checking that there was only one - that would make their crime scenes and dump sites matchup with dots in the pattern.

"Yes, it fits! The centre of the pattern matches up with a small public park that we should look into and following this pattern, the UnSub isn't actually striking random locations, he's hitting the points in a specific order. I didn't have enough points to see it before, but I think I can pinpoint his next target to within a block."

"Combining such a small area with our victimology should give us his next target. If this all pans out, we can catch him on Saturday." Morgan sounded carefully optimistic and excited at the prospect.

Back at the precinct, Spencer checked all the scene reports and had Garcia draw up accurate sketches for all the scenes to confirm his theory. Everything checked out as expected and they went about combing through the available information about the inhabitants of the block Spencer had identified, ending up with three possible targets.

With spirits considerably lightened due to their now very good chance at apprehending the killer before he could harm his next victim, Hotch's reaction stood out. He kept studying the files and merely gave a curt "Good work" to the room at large, where he would usually look at them individually in a situation like this. Spencer wasn't sure about the rest of the team, but Rossi's reaction showed clearly that he had noticed as well.

Putting unobtrusive surveillance on three homes in a small area was a logistic challenge, but they didn't know how closely and regularly the UnSub watched his victims so they couldn't risk disrupting their or his routine.

They were lucky, and while the would-be sixth victim got a serious scare, the only one hurt was the UnSub when Prentiss took him done none too kindly. But he'd live.

Hotch and Rossi spent most of the rest of the night breaking the man down and securing a full confession while the rest of them sorted all the paperwork. It meant that they were all beyond tired come Sunday morning, but they could fly home earlier.

It also made it less suspicious that Hotch retreated to the small table at the back of the jet, covered it in paperwork and later seemed to doze for a bit. Not talking to anyone.

 

* * *

 

 

When they returned to the office on Tuesday, after a much needed day of relaxation, Spencer was already used to the new normal of the very distant Hotch. He had even learned to get himself the occasional bottle of water.

It grated on him to admit how much better it made him feel compared to solely existing on coffee. It was a bittersweet realisation how Hotch had been taking care of him and added yet another pang to his feelings of loss.

So he added bottles of water to his mental to-do list of not falling apart and focused on different things.

He had just finished one of Morgan’s files when Hotch walked out of his office.

"Reid, Strauss has received a research request, she wants to talk to the two of us about." He gestured in the direction of her office, and Spencer just nodded and got up.

Hotch had walked off ahead rather than wait for Spencer like the Southern gentleman he normally was so Spencer simply closed the door behind him and settled into the second visitor’s chair like it was nothing extraordinary.

He listened to Strauss mediocre explanation of an interdisciplinary project at GWU that Spencer was already familiar with. He had heard through some acquaintances that they would request support from the BAU and wasn't overly surprised that they specifically asked for Hotch and him. There was a significant legal aspect to the research question which made Hotch the obvious choice, and Spencer himself was the best connected in academic circles. One of the professors involved made him a job offer once a year, like clockwork. It almost felt like their equivalent to Christmas cards at this point.

Strauss was going on about the relevance of the project and the prestige it brought the BAU to contribute to it. All Spencer could hear was how good it would make her look. He wanted to throw a side look at Hotch, gauge how much humourous bitching about her insecurities they might get into later, but then figured that was unlikely to happen this time, so he kept his eyes on Strauss.

Once Strauss seemed confident she had brought it home enough that active cases and consults, of course, took priority but that otherwise she’d like them to focus on the data asked of them, they were dismissed with a stern look more fitting for a primary school headmistress.

"I have some budget reports I need to get finished to focus on this," Hotch said halfway back to their bullpen. "I'd appreciate it if you could pull a first set of files in the meantime. Should we work backwards or in chronological order?"

“Chronologically matches the structure of the study better.”

“Very well. Drop off whatever you think I should start with. Thanks.” And with that, he vanished back into his office.

Spencer let out a small sigh. _At least, he still takes my professional and scientific opinion serious._ Giving himself a little push, he grabbed the stack of files from his desk and distributed them back to their rightful owners.

“Sorry guys, special assignment from Strauss. You’ll have to do your own paperwork.”

Their groans followed him down the corridor towards the archives.

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn't the first research project Hotch and him had worked on together, but things were different this time. And everybody noticed.

In the past, they’d settled into the round table room, stacking their work on a side table when the team had a case to discuss. The others could see them through the window, handing notes back and forth, Spencer scribbling ideas onto a whiteboard with Hotch looking on attentively, or just sitting across from one another, working in companionable silence. Spencer would bring in something sweet as a treat during the afternoon as a thank you because Hotch inevitably had to make sure he ate lunch.

It was a well-established routine that Spencer had grown very fond of, but just as Hotch's initial request had indicated, none of that was happening this time. Hotch stayed in his office, Spencer worked on his desk, and the only exchanged the occasional thoughts about their finds in passing.

It sucked most of the fun out of the experience.

Spencer soldiered on with his task, smiled at whoever brought him a coffee refill, and ate one of his pre-cooked meals when he heard the others mention lunch. He ignored the worried glances the rest of the team was throwing him anytime Hotch walked off again after one of their short exchanges.


	4. Chapter 4

Astonishingly, they all lasted until the Thursday of the following week before they geared up for an intervention.

“Pretty boy, wait up!”

Spencer held the doors of the elevator open for Morgan to join him.

“I’m heading into your part of town, meeting up with an old buddy. Want me to give you a lift?”

It wasn’t that Spencer didn’t see where this was headed but this way the inevitable would at least take place in private.

“Sure, thanks.”

He let Morgan babble on about his supposed plans with a friend and hummed noncommittally in just enough places. He had no intention to make this easy for his friend.

Once they'd cleared the gate, Morgan took a deep breath. "Reid… I know you don't like to talk about this kind of things, but we're all a bit concerned. What's going on between you and Hotch?"

“It’s nothing for you to worry about. Just leave it alone, Derek.”

"Look, I know you're holding up alright and are a big boy, but the longer I watch this thing, the more I get the impression that Hotch is the one playing the idiot here. You've put on a strong front and been acting pretty much normal. At least what qualifies for normal with you." The last was said with friendly teasing, but Spencer couldn't quite bring himself to return the grin, and Morgan turned serious again.

“Hotch is the one acting weird. The only times I’ve seen him pull back like this was during Emily’s faked death and the whole bloody mess with Foyet so whatever has crawled up his arse now must be pretty severe. I’d be worried they wanna break up the unit or something if he wasn’t especially awkward with you, which makes me think that something happened between the two of you. I’m not blaming you,” he hastened to add. “You act so normal and relaxed that there is just no way you’re feeling guilty about something. But I think you know what’s up and I can see you suffering under the whole situation. There are these flashes of sadness in your eyes when Hotch turns away. I just want you to know that I’m here for you. And if Hotch is being a moron, I’m more than willing to rip him a new one on your behalf.”

That actually made Spencer chuckle because he could imagine the scene vividly. Morgan absolutely meant his offer seriously, and it gave Spencer a warm feeling to have friends like that.

"Hotch is being a moron, but there's nothing you can do about it."

“Spencer-”

"No, Morgan, I mean it. It's personal and complicated, and Hotch just has to get over it. But I agree that he has had more than enough time, and if you guys are noticing it as well, it's time it stops. But the only one who can do anything about it, in this case, is me so, please, stay out of it."

“Sometimes you are too used to taking care of everything all by yourself, you know.”

"That might be true but is also completely inconsequential in this case. If he can't get over his guilt complex on his own, my opinion will be the only one that might help. I'm also not about to break his confidence and share with you or anyone what happened. I thought he might talk about it with Rossi, but he obviously hasn't. I'll think of something and take care of it."

“If you’re sure…”

"Yes, I am sure." Spencer couldn't quite hold back the eyeroll at Morgan's mother-henning brand of big brother. "Look, I appreciate you worrying and wanting to help, I do. But in this case, there's really nothing you or anyone can do. I'm sorry if I let it go on too long and it impacted the team. I'll sort it out."

Morgan pulled into the parking lot beside Spencer’s apartment building.

“Thanks for the ride.” He grabbed his satchel and was already out of the car when Morgan called him again.

“Reid, you know I’m here for you. Just to talk or we could go out as a bit of distraction or whatever. The offer about ripping Hotch a new one is still on the table as well.”

Spencer laughed. “Thanks, Derek. Now go home or meet your friend if they actually exist. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

 

A chance to clear the air came around sooner than expected and Spencer found himself standing in front of Aaron’s apartment door the next evening.

The doorman had recognised him and let him in with no fuss which was good. Spencer was pretty sure that Aaron wouldn’t have let him come this far if he had had any say in the matter.

And wasn’t it funny how he’d turned back into Aaron in his mind, just like that.

With one last deep breath to steel his resolve, he raised his hand and knocked on the door.

“Reid?” Aaron looked a little confused and a lot apprehensive.

“We need to talk.” Spencer pushed past him and met little resistance. Whether that was because he’d caught Aaron by surprise or the other man was still shying away from any contact between them he wasn’t sure and also didn’t care.

“Reid, this isn’t a good time, Jack-”

"Jack is at a sleepover birthday party, and you're not picking him up until tomorrow after lunch. I heard you on the phone with Jessica when I came to drop off my files."

He turned around and leaned against the back of the couch, not taking a seat that wasn’t offered but making it clear he wouldn’t be leaving easily. Aaron carefully closed the door and stood against it, too tense to lean.

Deer in the headlights was not a good look for him.

“You need to drop the guilt complex, whatever you manage to feel guilty about, and get over our little tryst. The others are getting worried about your behaviour and why you are basically ignoring me. I barely managed to talk Derek out of coming after you last night. He was all up in arms ready to storm your office and demand you stop being an idiot. I happen to agree with the last part.”

Spencer had a hard time reading Aaron. Many called him closed off and unreadable, but Spencer hadn't thought so in a long time. Not since he learned to read Aaron's eyes. But uncharacteristically, Aaron was looking at the ground rather than him.

“It was more than that, wasn’t it?”

“More than what?”

“More than a little tryst?”

"I don't know Aaron. I thought it could be more and then I woke up to a three-word note on the second pillow. I tried to take the hint."

Even at the angle of Aaron’s face, Spencer could see him squeeze his eyes shut.

“How could you ever want anything to do with me again after how I treated you, how I let myself go?”

"I'm sure that I have no idea what you're talking about so you'll have to actually use your words to explain what's going on in your head." He'd come prepared to force the matter and didn't think that coddling Aaron would get him anywhere, so the slightly harsh tone came more easily.

"I woke up to the realisation of what I'd done to you. In the harsh light of the early morning, it was difficult to overlook. I was so ashamed of myself. I couldn't stand to see the horror in your eyes." Aaron's voice was barely a whisper, something Spencer would have had a hard time catching if he hadn't been giving it his full attention.

“You didn’t do a single thing I didn’t enjoy,” he said almost as quiet.

“Reid-”

“No. Stop that right there!” His voice rose, making it clear that he wouldn’t have any of this distancing and at least it made Aaron look up at him, even if it was in shock. “When we’re talking about one of the best fucks of my life, you will do me the courtesy and call me by my first name!”

“Alright, Spencer.”

He'd wish his name wouldn't sound like torture on Aaron's lips, but he'd take it.

“How can you forgive me so easily for what I did? How can you not hate me?”

"What's there to forgive? Granted, waking up to that note wasn't fun but up to that point, I had an amazing night. You are an exceptional shag, Aaron." He wouldn't normally talk like that but he needed to break Aaron out of his shell of guilt, and shattering his perception a little seemed the most promising way to go.

"How can you be okay with my behaviour? It's wrong, and I should have better control of myself."

"I would ask who taught you that, but I think I know." Spencer sighed, starting to see what the problem was - and he was a little surprised by it. "Aaron, you and I both know that we feel how we feel and suppressing anything isn't good. I've come to terms with what I want out of a relationship a long time ago, and I refuse to feel guilty about it. I don't care when in the past lovers have called me needy or clingy and blamed the way dad left when I was little. I'm fully aware that that's likely a factor. But so what? We're all a result of our experiences. My desires hurt neither me nor others so why should I see them as a problem?" Aaron looked still so pained that Spencer wasn't sure it was fully sinking in what he was saying about himself. He hoped it would eventually resonate.

“What I want… it’s not appropriate. It’s too restrictive and oppressive and... old-fashioned.”

Aaron stumbled through his thoughts and Spencer could hear the words of others behind them.

“Too much like a caveman?” he tried to tease a little to get to the core.

"Yes." Aaron sounded defeated as he pushed himself off the door and walked passed Spencer, dropping into the single chair. He waved towards the couch, so Spencer took a seat as well.

“I call bullshit.”

“Excuse me?” The height Aaron’s brows climbed to was almost comical.

“If one partner is a little possessive and the other likes to feel claimed and owned, then where is the harm?”

“Where is the harm? Spencer, did you look at yourself that morning? I left scratches and bruises all over you. I bit you!” Aaron was almost yelling in his agitation.

"I noticed. I also enjoyed every single moment of it. Aaron, you didn't do a single thing I didn't want that night. I'm perfectly capable of telling somebody no, and you would never disrespect that. I woke up before you and made a trip to the bathroom. I found the sight and the feeling of every single mark you left exhilarating. Hell, even after the way you left in the morning, I still jerked off touching that bite mark on my inner thigh for as long as it lasted. Thanks for making me room with Rossi, by the way, that tragically limited my chances to enjoy that."

Aaron looked at him dumbfounded. “You liked me biting you.” There was a new layer of shock and worry in those words that Spencer knew he needed to defuse.

"It's not about the pain if that's what you're thinking. I obviously don't mind that, but it's more of a side effect. I enjoy feeling claimed, seeing visible marks of my partner's passion and desire for me. Feeling them throughout the day when they can't be there. It's a nice way to carry them with me." He shrugged, not entirely sure he had found the right words for his feelings.

“But… how can you encourage such feelings and behaviour in a partner? Jealousy is destructive.”

“As much as possessiveness and jealousy can go hand in hand, they aren’t the same thing. Jealousy is always based on a deep insecurity, either because one partner creates reasons to make the other feel a threat to their relationship or because one partner is so insecure about the relationship that they see threats, even search for them, when there are none. You can want to stake your claim on your partner and reinforce that claim to them and in the face of society all the time without feeling threatened in that relationship.”

“Haley used to accuse me of jealousy when we were younger. She said I was smothering her.”

“I can’t really make any good assumptions about Haley’s feelings. From what you told me about her hopes for your life together, she intended for a very specific public persona that probably didn’t really fit her own emotional needs. If she laid the blame for that at your feet, I don’t think that was fair. Because you are the least jealous man I know.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because I’ve seen you when your wife was cheating on you.”

Aaron’s head snapped up from the contemplations of his hands.

"You may not have said anything, but there were some signs, and I figured it out. Genius, remember? Anyway, there was this whole array of feelings coursing through you at the time. You were hurt and disappointed, you felt betrayed and lost your trust, in Haley, in your marriage, and just because that's the kind of man you are, a bit in yourself as well. You were afraid for your son, what it would do to him, that you might lose him. The one thing that wasn't there, even though you had a definite reason to feel it, was jealousy."

"I pushed her away with my needs; I couldn't control them enough."

“I’d say if anything the two of you, your needs weren’t well suited for each other. But that’s a moot point. Betraying someone you swore to be faithful to is never the right solution.”

“But what if she felt so smothered that it was her only way to break free? If I did that to her, to a woman I loved so much, how can I try a new relationship again and expect it to work? How could anyone give me that chance?”

Spencer ran his hand through his hair. This was more of an issue than he’d expected and he had been geared up for a session of yelling to get Aaron’s head dislodged from his arse, not for a deep dive into Aaron’s past and psyche.

“There are two sides of possessiveness and trust me, I’ve seen them both. There are those who claim someone and don’t care what anybody else thinks about it, including the one they claimed. That are the abusive partners, stalkers and UnSubs.” Pain flashed over Aaron’s face as Spencer said that. He really hoped Aaron didn’t think that badly of himself.

“And then there are the ones who see their partner as a gift, who care for them and protect them, who relish all the small symbols of them belonging together. But they would never want to hold somebody against their will. Tell me, Aaron, was there ever any doubt that you would sign the divorce papers?”

“No.” He sounded like he was choking on the word.

“I didn’t think so. You may have needed time to come to terms with it, to say goodbye to the years of marriage between you. But you’d never hold onto someone you knew truly didn’t want to be with you anymore. You’re totally the set them free and hope they return kinda guy. Because you’re not some caveman, Aaron. You know full well that the only way to truly call someone your own is to have them want to be yours.”

“You said you were mine that night.”

"Yes, I did. And I meant it from the bottom of my heart. Because I know the kind of man you are. I trust you, and I want you. Hell, you've been pretty much all I wanted for years."

Now there was fear in Aaron's eyes, and Spencer didn't know what to do with this. Why couldn't Aaron have a simple freak out about having sex with a man or his younger subordinate?

“Look, I haven’t come here to convince you to ride into the sunset with me. But I really hope we can salvage our friendship. Stop hiding in your office like you were sent from the dinner table without pudding. You did nothing wrong and have no reason to feel guilty or ashamed.”

"So you don't want a relationship with me?" Aaron somehow managed to sound hopeful and crestfallen at the same time, and Spencer sighed at the minefield of contradictions the man in front of him presented.

"You haven't lost any of your appeal to me, but I got the feeling that anything more between us wasn't an option on your part and I can deal with that. I can live with having had a fantastic one-night-stand and going back to being friends and colleagues. I'm a grown man, Aaron, and my world won't fall to pieces over this. I'd really hate for our friendship and working relationship to suffer under this, and it is starting to affect the team. So please try to get your head out of your butt and let us go back to normal."

He stood up, squeezed Aaron's shoulder in passing and let himself out. He didn't think there was any more he could say at this point.

He only hoped that some of it had gotten through.


	5. Chapter 5

He didn’t know what to expect when walking back into the office on Monday.

All throughout the weekend he’d been thinking about his confrontation with Aaron and if he’d handled it right. Aaron’s issues were certainly more complicated than he’d expected and he felt sorry for his friend who’d been told again and again by society and people close to him - most prominently Haley - that the way he felt was wrong, not appropriate for a modern man.

It was a stupid argument in his opinion. How Aaron felt on a romantic level and how he treated a partner in every other aspect had little to do with one another.

The question now was if Aaron could accept that distinction when it came to himself. The man had a tragic tendency to be much more lenient towards others than he was towards himself.

When around mid-morning a fresh cup of coffee appeared on his desk, placed there by a familiar hand, he could firmly hear the held breaths around the office. He reached for it with an easy smile and looked up.

"Thanks, Hotch." He got a nod and shy half-smile in return and took a sip before going back to the consult he was helping Prentiss with. The release of tension as Hotch walked off could be felt throughout the bullpen, but Spencer chose to ignore it. He kept his pleased smile to himself. There was hope that he'd gotten through to Aaron and that they could at least salvage their friendship. And that was what really counted.

 

* * *

 

 

The weeks went on with all the normal craziness that was life in the BAU.

Around the usual day to day paperwork, Hotch and Spencer kept working on the research project Strauss had assigned them and eventually set up camp in the round table room, discussing all their findings and possible conclusions. They ended up adding a paper full of recommendations beyond what the study was already looking at, points they thought could give the hypothesis more depth and any results a broader foundation. Spencer was itching to keep working on it even more, his excitement and joy for academic work fully returned. In the end and with Strauss’s approval, he reached out to the researchers he knew and asked to be kept in the loop as a consultant of sorts. Unsurprisingly, he was welcomed with open arms.

The team was called out on a few cases, some harder and more exhausting than others, but all horrible in their own way. But with each case that Hotch acted normal again, the team relaxed more, and the worried glances at the two of them stopped completely when on the second case after their talk, Hotch was back rooming with Spencer like it was the most normal thing.

And Spencer was relieved about the return of their old normal. He wouldn't go so far as to say he was happy but he thought content was an honest description. Happiness would take more time. He had gotten a taste of something he'd wanted for a long time, and it had gotten his hopes up. Intellectually he was adjusting to the fact that Hotch simply wasn't in a place where he could allow himself a relationship between them. His heart still ached for that dream just out of grasp.

 

* * *

 

 

"Okay, thanks, everyone. That has our assignments for next week covered. With JJ and Morgan being out of state for custodials and me in the hell of administrative meetings," Hotch gave a wry smile as everybody chuckled, "that leaves Prentiss, Reid and Rossi on cold cases and consultations. Urgent cases go to the secondary team. Garcia, IT has some details they'd like to double check with you but in general, you have the go-ahead to use next week for the proposed system update. Will that be enough to get everything back up and running before we go back into the rotation?"

"Absolutely, mon capitain. Conservative estimate is three days for the full implementation, and that leaves me with plenty of time to run tests. I'll keep the old system setup on a separate server until we have put the new one through its paces. And I already got an email from IT and have a meeting with them for tomorrow morning."

Hotch nodded his acknowledgement and closed his files and planner, clearly preparing to leave.

“Before everyone scatters, I have a personal favour to ask,” Rossi drew their attention his way.

“What’s up, Rossi?” Morgan asked as they all settled back into their chairs.

"A dear friend of mine started a charity a few years ago that runs art classes and workshops for victims of traumatic experiences, crimes, accidents, abuse… they are open to everyone. They have therapists involved in the program, and for some it turns into outright art therapy, for others it's just a means of distraction or to feel accomplishments again or to meet other people with similar experiences.

“This Friday, she has organised an exhibition for the participants to show their work and to raise money for her charity in the process. I can promise you good food and wine as I’m donating the catering for the event. I’d appreciate if you guys would come and mingle a bit. Having a few guests that have an understanding of what these people went through would add an important dimension to the discussions and to be frank, she’s super worried that nobody will come at all.

"It starts at six because some of the artists are still quite young so if you have plans for later in the evening, you could manage both. I know it's short notice, but I'd really appreciate if a few of you could come."

He got thoughtful nods all around the table.

Spencer thought it sounded like an interesting project and he hadn't been to an art exhibition in longer than he cared to think about, so he wanted to go. He had no idea about the others as nobody had mentioned any plans for Friday night so far. And Hotch and JJ had their children to consider, of course.

"Why don't you send us all the information on the event and we'll see how it fits into our schedules," Hotch suggested, and with that, their meeting broke up.

They talked about the exhibition a little the next day, and Prentiss, Morgan and Garcia all said they wanted to come, at least for the early evening. JJ prefered to have an evening at home with her family. With her being gone most of the following week, it was what Spencer had expected.

He hadn't heard Hotch say anything about his plans and Spencer hadn't felt comfortable asking. Where precisely the borders of their friendship lay right then was still a little murky.

He’d dressed in one of his nicer but still work appropriate suits that morning so that he could go straight from the office to the gallery that had offered their space to the good cause. It wasn’t a long trip taking the metro and a little walk. Looking up into the sky he wondered if one of the others wouldn’t mind dropping him off at home later as there were thick grey clouds gathering and he hadn’t brought his umbrella. “Never trust the weather forecast,” he mumbled under his breath as he ducked into the entrance of the gallery escaping a gust of wind.

The large windows matched the bright open space inside, and he was relieved to see a decent amount of people already mingling, including Emily. He'd learned to handle social functions but arriving as one of the firsts was still a level of awkwardness he didn't want to deal with.

After handing off his coat at the entrance, he headed Emily's way, hoping he wasn't interrupting anything too promising with the good-looking man she was chatting with.

“Reid, there you are! I was wondering if you were about to bail on us when you stayed behind at the office.”

"Why would I? This is a worthwhile project, and I enjoy art. I'm looking forward to a nice and interesting evening."

There was a touch of pride in Emily's smile, and he couldn't begrudge her that. Their friendship had played an important part in making him more comfortable among people. Though nobody would ever call him the consummate social butterfly.

“Hotch is around here somewhere. He just wanted to fetch us drinks before the bar gets busy. Don’t know what’s taking him so long.”

“Really? I hadn’t heard if he wanted to come and thought he might want to spend the evening with Jack.” Spencer hoped he managed to pass off his excitement as surprise.

“Jack has made plans for an evening with Jessica that I wasn’t invited to. I thought I had more time before I had to play second fiddle to a girl.” Spencer turned around when he heard Hotch’s amused voice behind him.

“Here, I saw you come in and got a white wine for you as well. Rossi ordered a nice selection.” He handed one of the glasses in his hand to Spencer who was trying to restrain his heart’s reaction to that smile.

“Ehm, thanks.” Thankfully, tasting the wine was a perfectly acceptable form of hiding.

The event was in full swing when the sound of thunder rolled over the neighbourhood, and the wind splashed rain against the windows.

“That’s a harsh turn compared to most of the day. I wouldn’t want to be outside in that,” Morgan commented.

Garcia nodded in agreement and then turned to Spencer. “How will you get home? You’d be drenched by the time you reach the metro station.”

He was about to say he'd call a taxi when Hotch didn't give him a chance.

“I’ll take Reid home. It’s almost on my way anyway.”

Spencer wasn't about to argue with a ride home in that kind of weather, but he couldn't help but wonder if Hotch had noticed how assertive he was in this point and that he hadn't even asked if his help was welcome.

They stayed for another hour, talking to some of the artists as well as other guests. Spencer enjoyed the experience. In their line of work they only ever saw victims of trauma at their worst and never had the time to stay and help them much with the aftermath. And while there were quite a few pieces on display that showed the pain and anguish lingering in the artists there were also many paintings, photos and sculptures that spoke of healing and moving on. It settled something deep inside of him to see that victims could make these steps and reclaim their life, leave the role of victim behind.

The worst of the thunderstorm had blown over, but the rain looked like it was there to stay well into the night.

Spencer was reaching his saturation point for polite conversation which wasn’t at all helped by the single mother of a supposedly gifted child and her pitiful attempts to draw Spencer into their lives - in which capacity he didn’t know and wasn’t about to ask.

“Hey Reid, you ready to leave?”

He could name a few instances where Hotch had come to his rescue in more sinister circumstances, but this one still went on the list.

“Yes! Just let me get my coat.” Turning back to the annoying woman he managed a reasonably polite, “Sorry, that’s my ride. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” He didn’t give her a chance to answer.

 

* * *

 

 

Hotch had parked in a garage down the block, and even though they sprinted the short distance, Spencer was shivering a little in his wet coat as he settled into the passenger seat. As per usual, Hotch didn't seem affected at all but cranked the heating up with a smile as he started the engine.

The silence in the car was a comfortable one, and Spencer was loath to disturb it.

As they reached his neighbourhood, he knew he couldn’t delay it any further.

“You have to make up your mind. You can’t have it both ways, Hotch.”

“What are you talking about?” Hotch sounded honestly puzzled and that only confirmed Spencer’s suspicion that he hadn’t even been aware of his actions that evening.

"Tonight, you've treated me like your boyfriend, like you had a claim to me. I don't think I'm so clueless that I missed you changing your mind on that front. Your actions in the past have spoken loud and clear that you couldn't imagine a relationship with me. If that has changed, we can talk about it, but you can't just go about in public like I'm yours."

“I still don’t know what I’ve supposedly done wrong.”

"From the moment I arrived, you made sure I always had something to drink, and it only came from you. On two occasions you even got me food from the buffet. No matter who you talked to, you always kept an eye on me. You broke up conversations I was uncomfortable with six times and at least three times you wanted to put your hand on the small of my back and stopped yourself at the last moment. And then you pretty much called dips on driving me home."

He let the facts just hang between them and watched the muscles in Hotch's jaw work, and his fingers tighten around the steering wheel.

“And that’s exactly why a relationship would never work. If small gestures like these that I do without even thinking about them already annoy you, how can you believe things would work well between us if we were in an actual relationship and I was consciously looking out for you and showing the world that you were mine. You are a strong personality and had to be independent and self-sufficient from a very early age. And I respect you too much to even attempt to change that about you.”

They'd reached Spencer's apartment building, and Hotch pulled into an empty visitor's spot.

“The point is that none of the gestures annoyed me. I thought they were rather endearing. It isn’t like you dragged me away from conversations I was enjoying. Trust me, I would have told you off for that.

"One problem is that the others noticed. I saw Rossi's reaction, and I'm glad you're the one who'll have to deal with his inquisition come Monday. And I think Derek and Emily noticed something as well, but I'm not sure if they saw enough to approach either of us.

"On a more personal level, my problem is that you basically staked your claim in public but have absolutely no intention of following through on the private half. You are just going to drop me off here with a ‘Goodnight, Reid' and probably think you are doing the right and gentlemanly thing. I don't know if the possibility of coming upstairs with me, the things we could do flashes through your mind or if you don't even allow those thoughts. It annoys me that after all those caring gestures I won't even get a goodnight kiss let alone anything else I dream off. That's what I meant by you can't have it both ways, Aaron. All or nothing. Anything else isn't fair."

He slipped out of the car and walked over to the door. He let himself inside and refrained from looking back. He hadn't heard Aaron drive off, but he wasn't sure he could handle looking back and seeing whatever expression there might be on Aaron's face. He couldn't fix this for him, for neither of them. At this point, the ball was fully in Aaron's court.


	6. Chapter 6

Spencer had shed his damp clothes and put on his flannel PJ bottoms and an old CalTech hoodie. It was still early, and so he made himself a herbal tea and slipped into the window seat with a book from his stack. Gazing out into the dark through the raindrop splattered window, what he didn't expect to see was Aaron's car still in the same spot.

He was still staring at it, wondering what to make of it when he heard a tentative knock on his door. Even lacking its usual confidence, he would still recognise this knock anywhere.

“Hotch?”

“Do you really mean it? The things you said back in the car?”

“Come inside. God, you’re drenched!” He practically peeled at least the coat from Aaron’s shoulders and hung it up.

"I couldn't decide if coming up was a good idea. But I couldn't imagine driving off not knowing. So, do you really mean these things? Are you sure that this could work?" He gestured helplessly between them.

“Yes.” It was such a simple answer. There were no guarantees, they both knew that. Too many factors played into a relationship to promise happily ever after. But the whole certainty Spencer felt about them being a good match fit into that one short word, so he repeated it. “Yes, Aaron.”

There were a lot of complicated emotions on Aaron’s face as he stood before Spencer, still hesitating. Spencer just waited him out. He wanted to touch, wanted to brush the doubt in Aaron away, but after everything he’d learned about the other man, he knew he had to let him take those steps.

And he wanted it as well. He wanted Aaron to be assertive again, to pull Spencer in and hold him close, like all those weeks ago in the club.

It was six breaths until Aaron finally moved. Strong hands slowly came up to cradle his face, thumbs running over his cheekbones.

“You’re so beautiful, do you know that?”

Spencer felt the blush creeping up his cheeks but didn’t pull away.

“And it isn’t just your outer beauty. You are one of the most wonderful persons I’ve ever met, strong and brilliant and caring. I don’t think I deserve you and no matter what you say, I will never believe I deserve you. But if you are certain, if you really want to give all this to me, if you truly want to be mine, then I will honour and cherish you for as long as you’ll let me and I will never leave you in any doubt how much you are loved and wanted.”

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat at Aaron’s sincerity as lips caressed over his.

He allowed himself to finally reach out as Aaron closed the small distance between them and pulled him into his arms, Spencer's fingers clenching at Aaron's shirt and trying to draw him even closer.

One of Aaron’s hands found its way into Spencer’s hair and guided his head while the kisses quickly turned from soft caresses to heated and deep explorations. He found himself against the back of his couch with one of Aaron’s hands already under his hoodie, hungry for skin. Spencer wasn’t much better, wrangling his preoccupied lover out of his jacket, but even untucked Aaron’s tailored shirt allowed frustratingly little access.

“Bedroom?” Spencer suggested, turning the similar scene from weeks earlier around.

Aaron nodded but didn’t stop kissing Spencer as if his life depended on it. Spencer wasn’t exactly opposed to more kissing, but the back of the couch was digging into his back.

“Aaron,” he said laughing, “you have to let me move if you want a comfortable surface to take this further.”

“Mmhmm,” was hummed into his neck and a minute later, Aaron started moving backwards, dragging Spencer along but not stopping the kisses. Spencer was happy to follow along. He just had to force himself to keep his eyes open to steer Aaron clear of the furniture. He’d rather not have a stupid mishap interrupt the evening.

The bedroom was dark, but Aaron barely seemed to notice. He was dragging the sweatshirt over Spencer's head and tossed it to the side. Spencer's own fingers weren't idle either, making quick work of the buttons on Aaron's shirt until the tie got in his way. He used it to pull him over to the bed and fumbled to switch on the bedside lamp.

Aaron was already pulling the knot loose, and Spencer pushed the shirt down his shoulders but got stuck on the cuffs. His little whine of protest made Aaron chuckle.

“Let me.”

Spencer didn’t care how Aaron managed to undo them behind his back while Spencer distracted him with more kisses, he used the time to get the belt and trousers undone.

“Eager?”

“Horny. Having the shag of a lifetime and then nothing but your own hand is incredibly unsatisfying.”

“Careful or you’ll give me an ego.”

“It wouldn’t be undeserved. And besides, I can handle you.”

The rest of their clothes came off quickly, and they got onto the bed, Spencer pulling Aaron on top of himself.

"Am I not too heavy for this?" Aaron asked, and Spencer could feel the tension in his body as well as his voice.

“No, it’s fine, perfect. I like to feel you like this.” He wrapped his legs around Aaron’s and pulled him in for more kisses until his lover relaxed.

It didn’t take long for Aaron to start exploring his body again. Everywhere from his forehead to his toes got caressed, kissed, licked and occasionally nibbled. Where there had been mostly hunger last time, there was now a tenderness and almost reverence to Aaron’s actions. Spencer floated on the attention.

Eventually, Aaron settled between Spencer’s legs and focused on his inner thigh.

“Where exactly did I mark you the last time? Was it here?”

“A little farther up,” Spencer answered with a hitch in his breath.

Aaron’s fingers slowly wandered upwards.

“Stop, there, just a bit more to the inside,” he instructed, excited at what he thought Aaron wanted to do.

He was proven right when Aaron spread his leg further to the side to give him better access and then put his mouth exactly where Spencer had directed him.

It was bliss.

Aaron kissed and licked the area before sucking on the flesh with abandon. Spencer dug his fingers into Aaron’s short hair, pressing him down even more, wanting it all. But Aaron pulled back without biting him this time, peppering little kisses all over the area.

Spencer looked down at the redone hickey, elated and disappointed at the same time.

“That won’t last as long, you know.”

“I’ll just have to give you another one soon, won’t I.” There was mischief in Aaron’s eyes as he kissed Spencer’s mouth passionately, sealing the promise. And Spencer could live with that thought.

Sooner than he’d like, Aaron pulled back and made himself comfortable between Spencer’s legs again.

“I already know you can come twice. I want to taste you.”

Spencer’s cock jerked at that prospect.

"Guess that means I don't get to suck you off tonight either," he said with a put-upon pout.

“You really like that. God, that’s so hot,” Aaron groaned. “But not tonight, no.”

“Do I get a different wish then?”

“I want to give you everything you want, Spencer.”

“I want you to fuck me open, stretch me with your cock with no prep.”

“Spencer…” Aaron’s voice was full of worry.

"I know what I can take, and I absolutely love being fucked open. Just use plenty of lube and go slow. If you don't think you can, we'll keep this for another time." He wanted this, but he didn't want to use the fact that Aaron felt guilty for his behaviour over the last weeks to push him into something he truly wasn't comfortable with. "Relaxing will be easy especially if I had one orgasm already."

Aaron stared into his eyes up the length of his body, searching for something.

“You’ll tell me to stop if I go to fast or you are at all uncomfortable.”

“Promise. I believe you had a different plan first?” He playfully tugged on Aaron’s earlobe to draw his attention back to his cock.

Aaron snorted but obliged, and soon Spencer had nothing to complain about.

He didn't know what exactly he expected from the always proper and straight-laced Aaron Hotchner but to be given a porn-star-level blow job was not it. He tried to ground himself by burying his fingers in Aaron's hair again and let the pleasure wash over him. He wanted to hold on and draw the experience out, but Aaron wasn't beyond playing dirty. He played with Spencer's balls and swallowed him down at the same time, and Spencer's orgasm broke over him like a tidal wave.

Aaron swallowed down everything he had to give before following Spencer’s clumsy tugs until they were face to face again. Spencer was still panting but nevertheless claimed his mouth in a sloppy kiss, wanting to taste himself there.

When he had recovered his breath somewhat, he could still feel Aaron’s erection press against his groin hot and heavy. He reached for a pillow and started to pull his legs up.

“On to part two.”

“Spencer, we don’t have to-”

“Please, Aaron. I want to feel you. Make me yours again.”

It had been the right thing to say.

"Okay." Aaron pressed a lingering kiss to his lips before fishing the lube out of the bedside table drawer and applying it generously to his cock. Spencer had manoeuvred the pillow under his butt and was watching Aaron eagerly as he guided his cock towards Spencer's hole.

“You still sure about this?”

“Yes!” Spencer put all his enthusiasm behind the one word, hoping to eradicate all of Aaron’s doubt and hesitation. It seemed to work.

Aaron started to rock against his hole gently until the muscle gave way and the head slipped inside. Spencer sighed in contentment and did his best to relax even more and let Aaron in. The combination of pressure, a slight burn, and fullness was delicious.

When he was about halfway in, Aaron leaned forward, so their chests were touching again and cradled Spencer's shoulders in his arms. It added a nice amount of leverage to his steady rocking motion, but more importantly, it made Spencer feel held and surrounded. He wrapped his own arms around Aaron's shoulders, pulling him in even further until their lips met again in an endless cascade of kisses.

Once Aaron bottomed out, he just rested there for a moment. He brushed the sweaty locks out of Spencer’s face and looked down at him in wonder.

“You are perfect. I still don’t fully believe that you’re mine and how that happened.”

“Because you’re a wonderful man and I want to be yours. I love you, Aaron. I’ve been falling in love with you for a very long time. I just never thought anything could come out of it. And now you’re here.” He clenched the muscles in his arse around Aaron’s cock, effectively distracting him from any more sappiness.

Aaron groaned and buried his face in the crook of Spencer’s neck. He pulled out a little before pushing back in, picking up speed when Spencer encouraged him with moans and breathless ‘Yes’ and ‘More’. His own erection lay reawakened between their bellies.

It didn’t take much more for either of them. Aaron was soon chasing his own release but managed to hit Spencer’s prostate just right in the process to get him close to the edge again as well.

“Spencer, I can’t... so close,” Aaron moaned and reached between them to jerk Spencer’s cock.

It was all it took, and after just a few movements, Spencer was spilling between them and felt Aaron stiffening above him as he came with one last, deep thrust into Spencer's arse.

Aaron collapsed on Spencer's chest, and they both just lay there, panting for breath.

"I love you, too, you know," Aaron eventually turned his face up to look Spencer in the eyes and broke the silence. "I couldn't tell you when it started, but somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you. I never thought I'd have any kind of chance with you." He snorted. "Who would have guessed that this would be the result of Dave dragging me to that masquerade party and then abandoning me. I can never thank you enough for buying me that beer."

Spencer smiled at the thought. "I felt kinda crazy playing that game but every now and then my wilder side wants to come out and play, and that night it decided as long as you played along, you were fair game. It was a dream come true, and I couldn't believe my luck."

“And then I had to go and freak out and almost destroy it.”

"No. Then reality had a few bumps in the road, and now things will be better for us having addressed those."

“You are too forgiving.”

“Maybe. But it makes me happy. And somebody had to balance out your tendency to claim the guilt for everything.” He tugged at Aaron’s earlobe to let him know he was teasing, at least a little. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

Afterwards, they snuggled in under fresh sheets, Spencer pulled into Aaron's chest as the little spoon, Aaron's fingers playing with his.

He simply enjoyed the warmth and safety where neither of them felt the urge to say anything.

"This feels wrong after what I did last time, but I should go soon," Aaron eventually broke the silence with a little sigh. "Jessica has a brunch with friends tomorrow, and I promised Jack we could go to IHOP before his soccer practice."

"I'll never begrudge you your time with Jack. I know you are a package deal and I adore how serious you take your role as a father. Just always say goodbye when you have to leave, and we'll be fine."

"I can promise that." Aaron pressed a lingering kiss against Spencer's neck as if to seal it. "Do you want to join us? I mean for breakfast. I don't know if you'd want to come and watch soccer practice, though I know Jack would love to have you there."

“And do you want me there?”

"I want you around me as much as possible, but I respect that you like your time alone to read and that not everything I do is interesting for you."

“As what would you want me there?”

“What do you mean?”

"What will you tell Jack why I'm joining you for breakfast? What should I say if somebody asks me why I'm at soccer practice?"

“Because you’re my boyfriend or lover or partner or significant other or whatever term you prefer. I don’t want to keep our relationship hidden, least of all from Jack. If you want some more time before we tell the rest of the world, that’s fine. But as you pointed out so nicely earlier, I can barely refrain from staking my claim on you when we’re not in a relationship. I don’t think I’ll do any better now that we are.”

Spencer snuggled even deeper into Aaron’s embrace at that thought. Little touches at the breakfast table, Aaron helping him into his coat, holding hands while walking down the road, little pecks on the cheek for no particular reason, and soccer moms looking at him jealously. He liked that idea very much.

"I'd love to join you and Jack tomorrow." Which earned him another kiss on the neck and a squeeze of his fingers.

When despite his earlier comment about leaving, Aaron made no effort to get up, Spencer figured he might as well say something about how Aaron’s fingers were brushing along the base of his fourth finger.

“Are you thinking about putting a ring on that finger?” he asked lightheartedly.

Aaron froze for a moment but then let out a long breath.

“I know it’s crazy and we’re nowhere near ready for that. But yes, I can’t help but love the idea of you wearing my ring someday. Of us living together, you raising Jack with me, maybe buying a house with a backyard.”

“Getting Jack that dog he’s been pestering you about?”

He could feel the shrug in response but could easily imagine Aaron still wishing for that perfect family home. Spencer would be lying if he said it held no appeal.

"I agree that we're not there yet, but I like your plan." He turned enough to be able to look Aaron in the eyes. "Let's take it one step at a time, and when we're both ready, I think I would very much like to wear your ring. But I want a proper proposal."

Aaron laughed and kissed Spencer like there was nothing else in the world.

“So, shall I pick you up tomorrow? Say around 9?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

It sounded like the beginning of a life he never dared dream about.

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is, my contribution to the 2018 CMBB.
> 
> I have ideas to revisit those two again a little down the road and do that from Aaron's POV. No idea, when I'll get to that and nagging won't help, but it should happen at some point.


End file.
